


Leave a Dream Where the Fallout Lies

by cherryroad



Category: Inception
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Crack, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-12
Updated: 2011-03-12
Packaged: 2017-10-16 21:59:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryroad/pseuds/cherryroad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>And here they were, in the middle of space without an asteroid or planet in sight, trying to rescue Robert Fischer from zombies. And Arthur was still enraptured with a </i>deckhand<i>. Arthur was as confused about where his life was headed as much as anyone else was.</i></p><p>A vaguely steampunk-slash-space AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave a Dream Where the Fallout Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the [Secret Santa Fic Exchange 2010](http://community.livejournal.com/eames_arthur/930880.html) run by [fakebody](http://fakebody.livejournal.com/profile).

“A ship on the horizon!” Cobb lowered his telescope to squint at the spacious nothingness around them before looking out again.

Arthur sighed. “It’s probably just an asteroid like last time, Cobb, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Ariadne! We need a new course to account for the ship we may run into if we do not touch the helm!” Cobb shouted, ignoring Arthur’s protests.

“We’re in _space_ , we can just go around it when it approaches, it’s not a big deal—”

“What, Cobb? I’m trying to rearrange the galley,” said Ariadne, sticking her head out of the wooden doorframe leading into the kitchens.

“But you just did that two weeks ago!” Arthur retorted, glaring at her small frame. She gave him an unrepentant smile.

“Ariadne!” Cobb shouted again. “We need a new course! We’re going to crash into this ship!”

Ariadne focused her gaze in the direction that Cobb was still facing. “That’s only a small speck; I highly doubt it’s another ship, Cobb, it’s probably just an asteroid.”

“Oh,” sighed Cobb, lowering his telescope. “I guess so.” He turned to the men on deck, the only one of them actually working being Eames, and he was only half-heartedly doing so because everyone on the ship found Cobb’s ridiculousness hilarious except for Arthur. “Back to your stations, men!”

The deckhands returned to their work with the focus and determination of disinterested sloths, while Eames sidestepped a wobbling barrel near the railing to come over to Arthur.

“Jesus Christ, does nobody listen to the first mate anymore?” Arthur wondered aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose while trying a few breathing exercises.

“I always listen to you, darling,” Eames said as he held out a sheathed sword. “By the way, Ariadne nicked this from your cabin earlier, but she went to go meet with Yusuf a while ago so I got it from her cabin.”

“What the fuck would she want with—”

Eames smiled, and the slight breeze seemed to pick up at just the right pace for Eames’ ruffled shirt to blow across his chest, and his hair to be a little mussed.

Arthur was transfixed with Eames’ chest but refused to let his attractions rule his logic. “How can there even be wind in space—”

“Arthur, the least you could do would be to thank me. I risked life and limb going into Ariadne’s cabin to get your sword back for you,” Eames reminded him.

“Oh, uh,” Arthur took the sheathed sword back and held it awkwardly, because his belt did not have another spot for him to put it on his person. “Thanks.”

“Not a problem, darling.” Eames did not move.

“You should get back to work,” Arthur informed him, raising his eyebrows at the muscled deckhand.

Eames only saluted Arthur with a toothy grin and scampered back off to do his work. Arthur watched him intently.

*

The thing was that Dom Cobb and Mal had been in love. They were enraptured with each other after having met when Dom was just a young boy and Mal was being coached in the arts of sailing a ship through the expanses of deep space by her father. Mal was taken with him, and Dom learned the ropes quicker than anyone had expected. They fell in love and never looked back.

A few years after their marriage they met Arthur, another young hopeful looking for something important to do with his life and showing much potential for the Cobbs’ space-faring adventurer’s lifestyle. They scooped Arthur up before anyone else could catch him. Arthur was beyond content, working with people who taught him everything they knew, who trusted him wholeheartedly, and who didn’t care about where he came from. It was a new and exhilarating feeling, living in space with his best (and one might say _only_ , at that point) friends and going on adventures he never really dreamed of (what they weren’t doing wasn’t exactly _illegal_ , per se, but it was definitely frowned upon by the Government and earned their ship a bit of a reputation around the galaxy. A few planets even outlawed their ship landing altogether).

But then Mal died.

Dom was there when it happened, though Arthur was sleeping in his hammock (he hadn’t yet gotten the role of being second-in-command on the ship, but he was working his way up). Dom and Mal were taking one of their regular above-deck midnight strolls when Mal confessed she’d been consumed by an idea, an idea from the Dream Configurator that she and her husband had been shamelessly using for the past months (Arthur pretended not to notice, but he wanted to scream at them to stop, that there was a reason it wasn’t in production anymore, there was a _reason_ people didn’t use them anymore, because it was very often _fatal_ ). Mal jumped off the balcony, thinking Dom would come after her, but he only stood, shocked and rooted to the spot.

Five minutes later Arthur was woken up from his hammock and made second-in-command, and he was the worst he’d ever felt in his entire life.

Arthur and Cobb both seemed to steadily and unconsciously avoid each other over the following weeks. Cobb was physically in a state of mourning, his eyes red and puffed, his skin pale, his personal hygiene completely forgotten. Arthur was the opposite – he looked perfectly normal in his waistcoats and button-downs, perhaps even a tad better than he did previous to Mal’s death. But he felt _awful_ , because the woman who had enraptured him with her laugh, with her sense of adventure, with her entire attitude toward life – she was _gone_. And he had no right to feel as miserable as he did because he wasn’t her husband – he didn’t want to be, he just wanted to be a friend of hers and he _was_ , but being friends with someone didn’t justify the amount of pain Arthur felt. He felt as if he lost his mother, in a way, someone that close and connected to his life and who he was. But he wasn’t Cobb, he shouldn’t have been grieving that much. So he shut himself down.

Instead of the carefree young man he once was, with Mal’s death he became much more closed off. He didn’t want to get too close to anyone because _what if they left him too_ ; Arthur couldn’t deal with that kind of pain again. Distance, as Arthur saw it, was the only option.

So, Cobb and Arthur dismissed most of their previous crew and sailed to the next relatively safe planet over, looking to hire an almost completely new crew. They picked up two men who refused to work separately: a muscular and tanned deckhand who called himself Eames (even though Arthur knew that wasn’t an appropriate first name according to the Government, though that would be, perhaps, why he was interested in the more illegal side of life in the first place) and who had a penchant for thievery; and a cook-cum-potion-maker who could also be considered a doctor, as he kept reminding Cobb and Arthur, named Yusuf. Cobb welcomed them on board immediately, and they were just about to take off to another port when a short man came running onto the decks.

“Who the hell are you?” Arthur demanded.

“I’m Jonathan Carpenter and I’d like to work on your ship. I have excellent skills with a sword,” the man said, face half-covered by a large and ridiculous hat. He had a higher voice, for a man, but Arthur was not one to judge. Jonathan whipped his sword out of its sheath and started an intense battle with the obviously hostile space in front of him.

“Can you navigate?” Cobb asked, squinting at the newcomer. Yusuf seemed to be intently admiring the handiwork on the swinging sword.

“Uh, sure,” Carpenter said, ceasing his movements awkwardly and sheathing his sword once again.

“Good! Welcome aboard!” Cobb said, striding back over to the helm.

Carpenter grinned and immediately went to the galley and started rearranging the tables.

“This is brilliant!” Yusuf said, looking sort of adoringly at Carpenter. Carpenter blushed and excused himself to his hammock.

Arthur groaned. He was starting to realize that Cobb must’ve surely begun his descent into insanity.

*

Hence the present day, where Arthur is used to spending his waking hours alternately trying to keep the ship actually moving forward and in one piece, and admiring how the muscles in Eames’ arms flex as he more than earns his keep on the decks. He hoped nobody has caught him in the latter.

Because, well, now Arthur had a reputation as an uptight ass, who was always overly professional with everyone he met and was one that was entirely uninterested in any kind of romantic relationships. It wasn’t that he didn’t have feelings for other people, but he does his best to not let them show, to not let them get out of hand. The exception to this is Eames, where the first time Eames had smiled at Arthur and then pilfered the small chain Arthur always wore around his wrist (a silent nod to his childhood years, the only thing he kept once he stepped onto the Cobbs’ ship oh so many years ago) had left Arthur feeling rather more attracted than angered. And the emotions only intensified from there, to where Arthur now physically _could not_ keep himself from studiously watching Eames work without his shirt on, if only under the somewhat flimsy pretense of making sure that everyone was working hard (because Eames always worked hard).

But it wasn’t as if Arthur didn’t also have a (non-sexual) fondness for his other team members, especially the ever brilliant Ariadne – or better known as Jonathan Carpenter, from her early days on the ship – who decided to let everyone know she was actually a female after the ship was well away from any planets, in case they wanted to leave her there. Arthur, aghast that she would think he’d actually condone dropping her off in some unknown planet, balked at her and said, “Please, you’ve been the most helpful person on this ship, I’d beg you to stay if you wanted to leave,” which is as much of a declaration of admiration from Arthur that anyone had gotten in a long time. Eames smirked, Yusuf added, “My galley is perfect thanks to you!” and smiled warmly at her, and Cobb said, “There’s a female on the ship? When did this happen?” and Ariadne blushed and continued with her work.

Now there was a larger and more important mission for Cobb and his crew to accomplish, more than just transporting scrap metal and the occasional exploratory mission. They were hired by a ridiculously powerful man that went by the name of Saito, a person Cobb normally wouldn’t deal with but was pressed into performing this in order to return to the planet he was outlawed on, and the planet he believed Mal’s body to be on.

They had to go rescue Saito’s main competitor, Robert Fischer.

The issue was that Fischer Marrow and Proclus Global owned almost all of the ships that went on interplanetary travel. Up until this point, Cobb had maintained a healthy and neutral relationship with both parties and witnessed the slow disintegration of Proclus Global’s fleet. The people disliked Saito and Proclus Global because his ships had been falling to the Fischer Marrow fleet more and more recently, which was because people disliked Saito’s fleet and went to sign up with Fischer’s fleet instead. Fischer’s fleet gained a better reputation and Saito saw only a downward spiral of his entire empire unless he could do something drastic. In a fit of desperation, Saito came up with a plan.

He had a job for Cobb and his team, to rescue Robert Fischer from a planet notorious for its undead population, and bring him back to safety. This would endear the public to Saito, seeing that even though Saito and Fischer were rivals, Saito would do what was best for the other man’s health and safety rather than what was (presumably) best for his business. It was also the only way, Saito said, that he could be convinced to clean up the charges on the planet Atenra against Cobb so he could give Mal a proper burial.

To Arthur’s not-surprise, Cobb accepted. And here they were, in the middle of space without an asteroid or planet in sight – well, _maybe_ an asteroid – trying to rescue Robert Fischer from zombies. And Arthur was still enraptured with a _deckhand_. Arthur was as confused about where his life was headed as much as anyone else was.

*

“Ariadne! I need you in here for a moment!” Yusuf called from the galley, and Ariadne dropped all of her navigation equipment to rush over to him.

Cobb squinted, his face reddening and his fists clenching. “Yusuf better not—”

“No matter how much you think you are,” Arthur interrupted, striding over to Cobb with a calm and disinterested look on his face, “You are not Ariadne’s father, and you do not have any say about who she is able to date or not.”

“But I’m the captain! And our navigator is off cavorting with our cook on top of all of our food—”

“I highly doubt they’re having sex on the bread—”

“You never know!” Cobb stressed.

“Anyway, who are you to say that people on the same ship shouldn’t be in a romantic relationship?”

Cobb stilled, squinting at Arthur. There was a long, tense moment where Arthur wondered if Cobb would fire him or club him or stab him for even implicitly mentioning Mal, but then Cobb just stalked off angrily, muttering to himself about Arthur’s need for meddling in other people’s business. Arthur counted it as a win.

*

Cobb thought Arthur loathed Eames to the point where, if given the chance, Arthur would gleefully throw Eames over the ledge and not feel an ounce of guilt. Arthur complained about a lot of things, and Arthur complaining about Eames flirting with him was nothing new to Cobb. Besides, if Arthur and Eames really did hit it off…it’s not like Cobb didn’t want Arthur to be happy, because for all he’d known Arthur, Arthur hadn’t even shown interest in one person throughout all the years they’d known each other. Eames, while a sketchy character, was a hard worker on the ship and Cobb mostly trusted him.

Which is why Cobb conveniently walked away under the pretense of adjusting the helm when Arthur was trying to help Ariadne with some of her questions about certain planets they were due to stop at soon. Moments after, Eames all but pranced over, not even trying to be subtle.

“Hello, darling, could I have a moment?” leered Eames.

“No, I’m trying to talk to Ariadne,” Arthur replied, not even glancing up at Eames’ face.

“Go, Arthur, it’s fine, I’ll talk to you later,” Ariadne dismissed, conveniently moving all of her navigation supplies and mechanisms over to the galley.

Arthur sighed and turned toward Eames, a disinterested look on his face. “What, Eames?”

“I just wanted to see your lovely face,” Eames said plaintively.

Arthur quirked an eyebrow. “You see my face every day, we live on the same ship.”

“Ah, but I hardly have deep conversations with you, now do I?”

“We’re going to have a deep conversation? I thought you wanted to look at my face.”

Eames squinted. It was sort of upsetting to Arthur how much everyone on the ship had taken up that particular habit of Cobb’s, even himself. “Will you suspend your logic for just once?”

“My logic is what keeps this boat from _crashing into asteroids_ ,” Arthur replied, looking miffed but secretly pleased that he was able to admire Eames’ stubble and messy hair and gorgeous eyes up close and without pretense.

Eames scowled and turned to leave, and Arthur retroactively felt that he was being just a tad too harsh, even for him, so later that evening when Eames was going to retire to his hammock Arthur made sure to compliment him on a job well done that day. It earned Arthur a wide grin, and Arthur figured things between them were even again.

*

The day that they would dock on Hadeous, the planet infested with zombies and also apparently the one that housed Robert Fischer, was drawing closer and closer. Cobb had already retired to his cabin and Arthur was left with the duty of making sure the ship didn’t hit any asteroids – “Ships, I said!” “Cobb, there are no other ships this far away from any other planets.” – or didn’t fall away from course. Arthur was tired and miffed that he had missed dinner. He was thinking about sneaking into the kitchens for five minutes to scrounge up some food, despite what Ariadne and Yusuf could be getting up to down there, when a voice startled him.

“Darling,” Eames said carefully.

Arthur froze at once, not sure why he was suddenly so on edge. He turned his head to the side to look at Eames, soft and hopeful, carrying a tray of food that was presumably meant for Arthur. “Uh.”

“You missed supper,” Eames continued, then offered the tray to Arthur. “I brought you something to eat while you’re all lonely out on deck by yourself tonight.”

Arthur – sort of flabbergasted at how Eames would have searched the galley to see if Arthur was present and eating, and then when not seeing such, he went out of his way to get food for Arthur, through most likely nefarious means – tried not to either swoon or scowl at Eames as he took the tray gently. “Thank you, Eames. I didn’t expect…”

Eames shrugged. “It was a pleasure.” He sat down easily on the deck next to the helm, and Arthur couldn’t help but follow suit. Eames raised his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you be keeping watch while _I_ keep you company?”

Arthur dismissively waved around the hand that held a roll. “As long as I don’t crash into anything or veer too far off course, we’ll be fine.” Eames, shocked, only stared at Arthur until Arthur looked up in discomfort. “What?”

“I just…” Eames trailed off, then shook his head. “Nevermind, I suppose I didn’t expect that reaction out of you.”

Arthur shrugged, continuing to eat his meal while Eames sat next to him. It was nice, Arthur thought, to sit and eat and enjoy the calmness and quietness of the night (not that light and dark really mattered in space, because it was always night unless you were near a sun) with Eames. Arthur didn’t really hate him. Quite the contrary, in fact, though almost everyone on the ship seemed to think otherwise. It was just that, well, Eames was a common wannabe adventurer, someone who just worked on the deck, and Arthur used to be just that but now he was _not_ , and he couldn’t shake the feeling from his parents who told him he’d never be with anyone in a class above or below him, because it wasn’t right for everyone else, it wasn’t right for the structures of society.

Then again, Arthur has always liked to watch Eames work, with double as much effort as anyone else, as if he was afraid that they would leave him at the next planet if he didn’t continually do the work of three people in order to earn his keep. Eames worked with loose shirts, half of them not even fully covering his torso, sometimes without a shirt at all, and Arthur especially liked to watch him then, muscles flexing as he maneuvered ropes and steadied himself on the ledge and his taut abdominal muscles when he pulled himself up using his own chiseled biceps – okay, so maybe Arthur wasn’t quite sold on the whole social-structure based restraints on their relationship. But he still had _principles_. Or something. Eames’ sweaty body was very distracting.

Arthur finished his meal and put the empty tray beside him, between Eames and himself. “I mean it, thank you for the food.” Arthur offered a small smile.

Eames, who looked surprised but then exceptionally pleased, only nodded. “Of course.”

And that was how they spent their night, companionable in their silence and Arthur only slightly on edge, watching the far-away stars and sitting on the deck. Arthur didn’t want the night to end.

*

But, of course, the wonderful feelings Arthur felt vanished quite suddenly when they found themselves nearing Hadeous. They didn’t even have much time to prepare weapons, because a large group of the undead – who apparently are unable to be defeated by small things such as vacuums that are present in space – were slowly making their way up past their atmosphere and towards their ship.

“Well, shit,” Cobb said intelligently, squinting through his telescope. “Arthur!”

And Arthur knew what he had to do. With a stern face, he started assembling his space suit, quickly and efficiently, not caring that he was undressing to almost his undergarments on deck for anyone to see, because he was surely going into _certain death_ trying to battle an army of zombies with only his sword and gun.

Arthur expertly jumped off the ledge of the ship, decked out in the only full space suit on the ship (because for whatever reason Cobb didn’t see fit to use his monetary rewards to buy something useful). He started up his jet pack, wondering briefly if he just set himself up for death by not refilling it with fuel before it roared to life and cast him speedily toward the zombie army. Sword out and gun at the ready, he charged, blocking everything from his mind as he started knocking zombie heads clean off their bodies.

To be honest, Arthur felt it was more the space suit than his own combat ability that made him so adept at fighting. It was almost like a full suit of armor, even if it was mostly airtight cloth. It was clean and white – well, mostly white, though now there were some slightly disturbing red, purple, and green splotches on it from where zombie limbs had flown off and hit him. The oxygen-filled sphere around his head was connected to a compressed tank full of it, ready to keep him alive for over five hours (Arthur knew that it was a good invention when he saw it on the planet Persephone, where they were last, and was ever-grateful that he had the foresight to buy it to replace his older, less spacious oxygen tank). Arthur felt protected in it, and he _knew_ he was quite a sight, floating in zero gravity and kicking zombie ass.

Arthur felt confident about their mission, right up until the zombies stopped fighting back and took him as their captive. The undead were terribly hard to bargain with.

*

The good thing about Arthur’s situation was that Cobb had also been taken captive, so they were sitting on the (gracefully oxygen-rich) planet, in a darkened, bare room of some kind, waiting for the zombie commander or whoever to come in and interrogate them and, most likely, induct them into their zombie horde.

“Cobb, they’re not going to induct us into their _zombie horde_. Do you even think about what you say before it comes out of your mouth?” Arthur said, irritated, as he tried to find a way to break the rusted chains that held him to the wall (quite closely, since he had been stripped of his jet pack). They must have been in some kind of _dungeon_.

Cobb squinted at him and then decided it wasn’t worth the fight while their lives were apparently in great danger.

Arthur just rolled his eyes.

*

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” chanted Ariadne as she clumsily got all of her swords and daggers tucked into her belt.

Yusuf was at the helm, guiding the ship swiftly and easily down into the atmosphere of Hadeous so that Eames and Ariadne wouldn’t die before they were able to at least reach the planet where Arthur and Cobb were stationed. He was upsettingly calm, especially for a man that was going to have to man the ship practically on his own – for their other deckhands and workers were too busy cowering in fear below decks, and once Cobb returned to the ship everyone knew they would be left on the zombie island for good.

“Ariadne!” Eames called, running out from below decks with his own sword. “Would you mind lending me a sword or two?”

Without looking up, Ariadne threw a dagger and a larger sword at Eames, and it spoke volumes of Ariadne’s skill with swords and Eames’ dagger-involved thieving past that when the sharp objects came near Eames, they were pointed with the handle toward Eames’ body, and Eames grabbed them almost effortlessly. “Thanks, love.”

“No time for endearments,” Ariadne dictated, standing on the ledge of the ship and holding on with some ropes. She was impossibly young to be this hardened, Eames thought, though she was still innocent enough and quite beautiful, with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and her eyes wild with the promise of adventure and hardened at the thought of losing someone close. “We have to save Arthur and Cobb.”

“Without delay,” Eames agreed, thinking of the horrors Arthur – beautiful, competent, intelligent Arthur – might have to endure if they did not act swiftly. He fished in his pockets for a second, grabbing a small metal contraption he’d found in the galley storerooms (as if Yusuf could keep anything from Eames’ prying eyes and inquisitive nature). Feeling fairly confident about what it was supposed to do, Eames dropped the box-like machine over the side of the ship, watching it plummet to the ground on Hadeous. A few seconds passed where Ariadne looked at him disbelievingly and Eames hoped he hadn’t been wrong, then a large building not unlike a skyscraper sprang upward, close enough to the floating ship that neither Ariadne nor Eames would break any bones jumping onto it.

Eames grinned, then without hesitation he jumped from the ship and performed a barrel roll as he landed on the roof of the building, his soft and billowing shirt allowing him free movement. Waiting only a few seconds for Ariadne to follow him, he led the way swiftly down a few flights of stairs to where they could reach an elevator. The building was more of a tower than a skyscraper, with just enough room for an elevator shaft down the center of the building and flights of narrow stairs lining the walls around it in a downward circular pattern.

They were riding in the elevator, adrenaline both pumping through their veins, when Eames felt the need to clarify their game plan. “I’ll find them and you take care of these vile-smelling creatures while I bring them back, hmm?”

Ariadne only nodded, smiling knowingly.

Once Eames and Ariadne reached ground level, there were a few army members waiting curiously outside. Eames stepped out of the elevator doors first, cleanly slicing the first zombie in two upper and lower sections with a bit of a flourish. Ariadne jumped out from behind him and got two zombies with both of her unsheathed swords, and nodded at Eames. They both then started steadily making their way away from the tower and towards a larger building off in the distance, hoping that was the place Arthur and Cobb were held, and potentially where Robert Fischer would be. It was the only building in sight, and their only hope.

*

It really fucking sucked, Arthur thought, to be chained to a wall in a dark room on a hostile planet while your original plan was presumably falling to pieces.

“Cobb, why did we take this job, again?”

Cobb stared at Arthur for a bit, contemplating, even though he knew Arthur knew the answer to his own question. “Because they said they’d allow me back to the planet my wife’s body was on so I could finally bury her.”

“A burial won’t be necessary, Dom,” came a familiar, French voice that paralyzed both Arthur and Cobb. Mal had somehow silently entered the room, and she looked as beautiful as she ever did. She was wearing a long, black dress and it looked gorgeous on her. Arthur could hear Cobb loudly swallowing.

“ _Mal_? How can it – how are you _here_?” Dom squeaked.

“I came back for you, Dom,” Mal said with a soft smile on her face. “I love you, I couldn’t bear being away from you.” As she stepped more into the light, Arthur was able to see the subtle differences that were invisible to him only a moment before. How her hair seemed deadened, not as smooth and healthy as it once was. How her eyes were a little more sunken in. How her skin was paler with a green tint. How her whole demeanor was just a little off, she wasn’t quite as graceful in her movements as she had been.

Arthur narrowed his eyes, all of the immediate and uncontrollable joy at seeing Mal alive again wiped clean away with distrust. “You’re one of the _undead_?”

Mal, halfway to caressing Cobb’s face with her hand, stilled and then retreated. “Yes,” she replied simply, walking slowly over to Arthur. “I landed on this planet after some time spent on Atenra, where my body was for quite some time, but I was then transported here by Mr. Saito and given life.”

“ _What_?” Arthur gasped, astounded.

*

Ariadne and Eames had gotten to the main entrance into the eerie, deserted military base-like building. The only problem was that there were other zombie guards inside the locked doors, and the zombies they had previously been fighting were making some ground on them, though it was slow going.

Eames pondered this for a moment while Ariadne mostly looked pissed off at everything. Without voicing his plan, Eames retrieved one of Ariadne’s many daggers and threw it through the glass of the door, landing an awkward, but effective, puncture in the nearest zombie’s head, incapacitating him. Ripping off part of his shirt, Eames wrapped his hand in the soft cloth and started pulling away the glass, enough to where he could slip through it. Ariadne jumped through the opening quickly, being quite petite, and started attacking the undead guards while Eames made it possible for him to enter without being cut to pieces.

Once through, both he and Ariadne made their way briskly through the long corridor, not worrying much about the zombie army outside following them in because, in their lazy movements, they’d take quite a while to make it through the door and down the hallways.

“God _damn_ it,” Eames cursed, after opening the third door he could find in the bland and empty hallway onto nothing but concrete.

“Do you think the building is just a decoy?” Ariande murmured as she opened the door behind Eames.

Eames panicked at that – what if he didn’t get to save Arthur because he spent so much time patrolling a useless building, and he’d die at the hands of the undead and so would Arthur, if he hadn’t died already, and oh God, what if this whole mission was entirely a plot by Saito to stop them from interfering in interplanetary trade—

“Eames,” Ariadne whispered, grabbing onto his bicep firmly. Eames took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes, silently thanking her. She nodded, then put a finger up to her lips. “Listen.”

And Eames could hear it, muffled shouts coming from down the corridor. As if they were bound and gagged. Eames’ heart stopped for a second before he sprinted off to the door. He pulled it open and was, in reality, mildly disappointed at what he saw.

“Robert Fischer?”

The man’s blue eyes looked up from his crouch in the bottom of a room no bigger than a closet, though there wasn’t any sign the room was used in the way a closet usually was. He was obviously not Arthur, and that meant that Eames still had to go _find him_ , and he could have been in a completely different building on the other side of the fucking planet.

“I’m going to…” Eames motioned vaguely as he started down the hallway. Ariadne only nodded at him, wishing him, “Good luck,” before crouching down to Fischer’s level. Fischer, presuming her to be one of his capturers, started whimpering hysterically, wildly moving his head about.

*

“The undead here are lovely, Arthur,” Mal implored, large eyes trained on Arthur. But it was wrong, she was wrong, her eyes were hollow and _she wasn’t Mal_. Arthur couldn’t bear to look at her and so dropped his gaze. “They took me in and made me their leader. They don’t speak much but they do have hearts of gold.”

“Sweetheart, is it really…? I thought I’d lost you, Mal, honey….” Cobb said vehemently, never taking his eyes off Mal. Arthur bristled at Cobb not even _realizing the implications of a zombified Mal_. She went to her husband willingly, dropping down beside him and touching his face.

Arthur couldn’t stand it. “What about Robert Fischer? Is he even on this goddamned planet?”

Mal nodded, eyes locked with Dom’s. “Yes, he is, but your teammates have already found him.”

“It’s true!” Eames burst in through an apparently open door, brandishing his sword. Arthur couldn’t help but stare at him – not only was he right in all the ways that Mal was wrong, but he was sweaty, his shirt clinging to his damp skin for dear life, and Arthur had never seen something or someone as beautiful as Eames in this moment. Eames had come to save him, had risked his life against an army of the undead in order to rescue them. To rescue _him_.

When Eames started advancing toward Mal with his sword raised high, though, the moment was broken by Cobb yelling out, “No, Eames, if you kill her I will murder you,” which was both direct and unnatural coming from his captain, so Eames froze.

“But she’s—” Eames started, motioning vaguely at Mal’s very being, obvious confusion written all over his face.

“Nevermind, Eames, it’s okay, it’s Mal,” Arthur said, restlessly moving his arms in order to demonstrate to Eames that he was still restrained. He just wanted to – to touch, to feel Eames’s hair and his shoulders and the stupid stubble on his face. How could he have been so _stupid_ , to think that subtle differences in their class were something he should be _worried about_ , when had he ever done so when he was still at home? “Can you please release me? My arms are in pain.”

“Talk about _your_ arms,” Eames huffed, but he silently moved over to where Arthur was chained, anyway. “Oh, darling,” Eames said sadly, “your wrists look dreadful.”

“Chains can do that,” Arthur gritted out while he studiously ignored the pleased sounds coming from Mal and Cobb in the other corner as Mal undid Cobb’s chains, as well. His eyes looked up wonderingly at Eames, the man he was sure he could spend the rest of his days with, someone who was dedicated to him but was waiting on him to stop being so idiotic. Someone who trusted him to come to the realization that other people’s opinions didn’t matter, because he shouldn’t let himself or anyone else stand in the way of his own happiness.

Eames expertly picked the locks on Arthur’s chains and as soon as Arthur’s arms were free he reached up and wrapped his hands around Eames’ face. Eames’ eyebrows rose in shock, but he didn’t look unhappy or angry. “I just–” Arthur started, and he intended on finishing his sentence with _never let myself realize_ but Eames and his gorgeously soft lips were too enticing for him.

Arthur felt rushed, like he needed to prove to Eames that he was sorry he didn’t react sooner, that he was sorry his mind was a convoluted mess, that all he wanted, now, was Eames himself. Eames slowed him down with a steady and warm hand on Arthur’s jaw, forcing him to savor their first kiss. Arthur wrapped his arms around Eames’ shoulders and neck possessively and Eames hummed, pleased.

After a moment, their lips parted but their foreheads were still touching, and Arthur looked into Eames’ eyes. Eames, for his part, seemed to be searching Arthur’s face for something, maybe if it was a joke, considering how many times Arthur had been generally annoyed with Eames’ very existence. Then Eames seemed suddenly satisfied, and he grinned. Arthur unconsciously copied his reaction, then helped them both to stand up as Eames undid the chains on Arthur’s ankles.

“Darling, really, you need to stop getting yourself in these predicaments,” Eames said playfully, as if Arthur made a habit of getting himself captured by the enemy. “You have no idea what it does to my heart.”

Instead of an annoying retort, Arthur only smiled and replied, “I have a few ideas.”

*

“Mr. Fischer, please, just come with me, _I’m not going to abduct you like Mr. Saito_ , I’m just trying to get you back home,” Ariadne pleaded, leading a distraught and uncooperative suited young man away from a cave.

“No!” Fischer cried. Ariadne knocked him in the back of the head with the butt of her closest dagger, however, and after that Fischer didn’t resist much as Ariadne all but dragged him into the elevator.

*

After Arthur and Eames left the bland, one-story building and caught up with Cobb and Mal (who had gotten free some time earlier and began the trek in the complete opposite direction they were supposed to until Eames got them to turn around and walk toward the tower), they met Ariadne and Fischer in the elevator.

“You knocked him out?” Arthur asked, skeptical.

“He wouldn’t cooperate,” Ariadne replied coolly. “He was hysterical.”

Eames nodded approvingly. “I would have done the same thing.”

“Well, how was he supposed to know we were trying to help him? If I had been in his position, I might’ve tried to kill you.” Arthur folded his arms.

“Ah, but Fischer here doesn’t have the combat skills you do, love,” grinned Eames as he started the elevator, pushing the button for the highest level.

“By the way,” Arthur continued, “I don’t remember this building being here when I was taken captive.”

“I found it in Yusuf’s cabin,” Eames supplied helpfully, still grinning at Arthur as if he couldn’t believe his luck. Arthur couldn’t believe his own luck, either, but he fortunately had more control over his facial muscles.

“You found a building in Yusuf’s cabin?” Cobb asked doubtfully, holding onto Mal’s hand like it was his lifeline, and Arthur presumed it was.

Ariadne bristled, looking disapprovingly at Mal but then letting it be as she turned to Arthur. “It’s one of those compact devices, that breaks down atomic structure in order to fit more mass in a smaller compartment? I never truly understood nanotechnology, but I must say it’s come in handy.”

Arthur nodded, and then they were on the last floor for the elevator. Ariadne pushed Eames and Arthur to carry an unconscious Fischer up the last few flights of stairs – “I’ve been responsible for him since that damn building!” – and they had to work out a complex system of give and take in order to both successfully scale the ropes back up to the ship and not let Fischer fall. Once everyone was back up on the ship (most everyone looking worriedly at Mal, but then Cobb took her back to his cabin and that was that), Arthur took over the helm from Yusuf and promised him “a significant reward” for keeping the ship running and in order throughout the whole ordeal. Yusuf bowed slightly, thanking Arthur, and turned to help Ariadne put all of her weaponry away. Eames leaned his elbows against the railing next to Arthur as the ship gained speed and took off, out of the atmosphere of Hadeous.

“So,” Eames began smoothly, “who is she?”

Arthur didn’t pretend to ignore Eames, or not to understand what he meant. He knew this was an important question to ask – if Mal wasn’t to be trusted everyone on the ship could be in danger, and Arthur understood that. Hell, he didn’t even fully trust Mal, and he had seen her when she was still _alive_. “She’s Mal.”

Eames nodded. “And _who is she_?”

Arthur sighed. “Cobb’s wife. She,” Arthur swallowed, forcefully closing his eyes (but only for a moment, because he took his duty of avoiding asteroids seriously), “She died, right before we hired you and Yusuf and Ariadne and everyone else.”

Eames’ features softened, and he reached out a hand to Arthur’s shoulder, rubbing the open skin near his neck soothingly. He didn’t ask any more questions.

*

Arthur boarded the ship once again, preparing to leave Saito’s base planet after returning a worried Robert Fischer to it. After having his assumptions assured by Saito himself – yes, Saito arranged for the kidnapping, yes, Saito did it to save his reputation, no, he wasn’t a _total_ asshole who reveled in other people’s misfortune, he did what was best for the people he employed – and having his arguments silenced by Cobb who told him, “Look, we got our money, I have the love of my life back; can you just not ask questions, this time?” Arthur was more than ready to leave.

“Everything’s finished, darling,” Eames told him when Arthur retreated back to the cabin he and Eames now shared. Arthur unbuttoned his waistcoat as he watched Eames lazing about in his bed. “You’re home, now.”

“Yeah,” Arthur replied, leaving his waistcoat on the chair as he climbed into bed. He hooked an arm around Eames’ waist and Eames wrapped an arm immediately around his back. “Yeah, I am.” Arthur wasn’t referring to the ship, though, and Eames seemed to understand that, too.


End file.
